And Catharine accompanied these words with a sigh which made Réné shudder, for he thought of the famous gloves he had prepared by Catharine's order for the Queen of Navarre.
"So he still runs after her, does he?" said Réné.
"He does," replied the queen.
"I thought that the King of Navarre was quite in love with his wife now."
"A farce, Réné, a farce! I know not why, but every one is seeking to deceive me. My daughter Marguerite is leagued against me; perhaps she, too, is looking forward to the death of her brothers; perhaps she, too, hopes to be Queen of France."
"Perhaps so," re-echoed Réné, falling back into his own reverie and echoing Catharine's terrible suspicion.
"Ha! we shall see," said Catharine, going to the main door, for she doubtless judged it useless to descend the secret stair, now that she was sure that they were alone.
Réné preceded her, and in a few minutes they stood in the perfumer's shop.
"You promised me some new kind of cosmetic for my hands and lips, Réné; the winter is at hand and you know how sensitive my skin is to the cold."
"I have already provided for this, madame; and I shall bring you some to-morrow."